How a heart could love so much
by jan.rover
Summary: ONE SHOT: Sasuke and Sarada made breakfast. Sakura comes home dead tired, but he could not be fooled. A simple morning that gave way to a peek into the minds of the Uchihas. [Not really good at summaries. Read on and you'll find something better. :) ]


**How a heart could love so much**

* * *

A/N: Hey. I've started watching Boruto: Naruto Next Generations last month, and damn, my SasuSaku spirit got revived it's suffocating me. Please read on, and leave a review. Enjoy! :)

P.S.

I do not own the story cover photo. Credits to the owner. I love it so much I couldn't help but using it as an inspiration. :)

* * *

"Mama!"

Sarada's surprised voice welcomed the pink-haired kunoichi as she entered removed her shoes and entered her home.

"Tadaima." Sakura smiled, dropping her things on the couch as she made her way to her family.

 _'Her family'  
_

She never thought she'd have one…

"Papa made breakfast." Sarada said, as though on cue, as her mother bent to kiss her on the cheek.

"He did?" Sakura's eyes trailed off from her daughters', and was caught by those jet black orbs already staring at her. _Her husband._ "That's great."

"Welcome back." He mumbled, and she couldn't help the grin break out of her face as he held her gaze. And in that short fraction of a second a lot has been said between them. Her heart warmed at the sight of him, almost clenching with the amount of emotion she always felt for this man. And after so long, there he was, in her kitchen, with an apron around his waist, still looking gorgeous.

"But we didn't know you were coming home, Mama." Sarada said, breaking their stare as she gestured towards the unfinished bento she was packing. "We were going to bring you some food..."

Her mother smiled at her. "Thank you, Sarada-chan. That's so sweet of you two. But I-I'm not hungry yet. I think I should go upstairs and get some sleep."

"B-But, Mama—"

"I promise I'll eat when I wake up.", Sakura mumbled politely though absentmindedly.

"Are you alright, Mama?"

But her mother was already moving up the stairs.

Sarada frowned, slightly hurt. The bento lay in front of her, looking delectable even when unfinished.

"Come now." Sasuke's voice cut in her thoughts.

She looked up, and her father proceeded to finish up the bento quickly, yet beautifully.

"She's acting weird." She declared, frowning. She and her mother had always been close. Of course, there had only been the two of them for a very long time… "She could've at least tasted it a bit."

"Your mother's just tired."

Sarada looked at his father who was wrapping up the bento. She's glad he's here; but she hadn't really been able to really 'master' his father's quirks. Unlike her mother, who seemed to understand everything his father does, says, or doesn't say, Sarada found it quite hard to read his dad. She'd tried seeing him in the eyes of strangers—who found his dad amazing, mysterious, and dangerous—but even then she found it difficult.

Yet she loved him, and because of that, she learned to only see and understand him in the eyes of someone who loves unconditionally—like her mother. She figured that that was the only way that works, so that's what she was going to do.

She also wondered how much his father felt for her mother. Sure, she'd considered her parentage a closed case. But as for the amount of affection she saw between her parents, there were still times she questioned her father's seeming indifference. His father's quiet. He barely talks. He was gentle and patient with her; but was more open in his affection towards her than with her mother. She found this weird, and she thought that it was only logical for someone to wonder.

Yet there had been rare moments that took a lot of focus to be able to notice. Her parents stared at each other a lot. Not like a stare-down or something, but their eyes often lock with each other's, and with an experienced eye, you could tell they were sharing a lot more than just a stare. It seemed like they had a world of their own, she figured, and it took her a long time to realize that perhaps love is different for everyone. And with her parents, it was something quiet, cryptic, and weird.

His father was tall, she noted absently, and he towered in the kitchen as he proceeded to clean up. Then he suddenly he looked over and paused to regard her with those dark eyes.  
She blinked, and saw his hand gestured for her to move closer, and she did.

"Sarada."

"P-Papa?"

"Don't make that face."

Uchiha Sasuke stared at his daughter. She'd grown so much over the years, and he felt nothing but love and pride whenever he sees her.

She looked away, her eyes on the bento. He watched her quietly, as he knew her mind works in ways pretty much like his and her mother's. Her eyes looked stubborn, but after a few moments, the stubbornness and hurt that made her look so much like her Papa in that moment were slowly replaced with guilt and worry. And it struck him how much of Sakura his daughter actually was.

"Is Mama okay?" She mumbled, now clearly worried than hurt.

Sasuke thought about his wife who was now upstairs, the look in her eyes well plastered in his mind. "She just needs to rest."

Sarada nodded. She knew her mother had spent more hours in the hospital than at home for the past few days. She was the one who brought her change of clothes and food. She was the one who coaxed her to go home and rest for a bit. She knew her mother was tired. And it was futile to feel hurt about a stupid bento.

Then Sarada felt a big warm hand over her head, and she blushed, looking up to his Papa.

"Go. You'll be late."

"But… Mama?"

"I'll check on her."

Reluctantly, she nodded. "Okay."

* * *

Uchiha Sasuke knocked on the door of their bedroom, and immediately he felt stupid. This was their house afterall. He didn't expect a reply, but he waited a few seconds before slowly opening the door.

The bedroom was dim, the drapes covered the wide windows so that only strips of light came through. His eyes scanned the room, and found the pink haired kunoichi on the bed. And it took him a moment to react.

She was curled on her side, her face buried in a pillow. When he heard the muffled sounds from underneath, his feet moved on their and he closed the door behind him.

Slowly, quietly, he sat on the bed, quite unsure of what to do. His heart clenched at the sight of Sakura. His wife... His strong and vibrant wife, curled in anguish in front of him. Tentatively, he leaned down closer, now settling on the bed beside her as his hand gently wiped the wetness from the side of her face. He felt her stiffen at the sudden touch, but immediately relaxed, her grip on the pillow loosening. An eye peeked from underneath, and when she saw him, she propped herself up on one elbow. Then her face scrunched up, a fresh sob breaking out as her arms held out, and he quietly obliged.

She buried her face on his chest, her cries muffled in the tight embrace. He inhaled her scent, his face in her hair as he held her close. And for a second he wished he had his other arm, just so he could hold her tighter.

He knew something was wrong the moment he saw her. With the strain in her voice, her distracted demeanor… It was barely visible, for he knew Sakura was genuinely happy to see her daughter. Yet it took more than that to fool him. Besides, her eyes never lied to him.

He once vowed to himself to never be the cause of her tears; and though now he was clueless, he couldn't help but feel guilty about the things she cried about when he wasn't around.

"Sakura." His voice was barely a whisper, and she responded by pulling him closer. "What's wrong?"

She leaned back, sobbing, and looking very much like the Sakura crying for him all those years ago. "Th-they—they died." She managed to say in between sobs.

"Who?"

Sakura covered her face in her hands, trying to muffle her uncontrollable cries. She heard him sigh, and pull her back into the embrace. His arm was strong and comforting. For the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to feel weak again.

It took a while for her to calm down. And when her sobs became softer, he tried to look at her. Her hair stuck on her wet cheeks and forehead, and he slowly moved them away from her eyes. Her nose was running, and he used his loose left sleeve to wipe them dry, eliciting a soft groan of complain perhaps in embarrassment.

It was quiet for a moment as Sakura's sobs died down. He brushed her hair from her now sweaty face and neck, revealing her wide forehead. But she was beyond this insecurity now, as her heart was filled with sadness.

"I had this patient." She muttered after a while, and Sasuke's attention refocused as he listened. "A-A child with a rare blood disease."

Another sob dared break out, but she cut it in with a deep, shaky breath.

"Her mother had the same diagnosis. But she was Tsunade-sama's patient then."

Sasuke somehow knew where the story was heading, but he remained quiet.

"Th-they were...living a difficult life. Sarada and I used to visit them with food and medicine, and clothes—"

He felt her tears on the bare skin of his collarbone, and he instinctively pulled her close.

"The child flared up a few days ago. Her mother refused to leave her side. Barely getting any rest... A-and her husband...the girl's father—"

He noted the change in her voice at the mention of the man, and a part of him braced. She didn't needed to elaborate.

Sakura let out a sigh, snuggling in her husband's warmth. "It didn't take long for the mother to flare up as well... her body could only take as much."

She paused, and steadied her breathing. Memories of the past few days at the hospital flooded her, and the pain and frustration hit her anew. It took a lot for her to focus on his comforting hand through her hair just so she could speak.

"When—" Sakura swallowed back a sob. "When the child died...her-her mother... Her heart just gave out..." She let out a shaky breath, her voice weak. "Well. She just lost her reason to live."

Her breathing was steadier now, but he knew his wife was far from feeling better. Then Sakura met his gaze. Her eyes were puffy and bloodshot, her hair ruffled, her skin damp with sweat and tears. But he thought she was beautiful. He didn't say this out loud, of course, but his eyes didn't leave her face. He saw the extent of pain, frustration, and sadness she was feeling, knowing that this stemmed from her genuine compassion and love for her patients; and his heart ached with affection for his wife.

 _His wife._

He never thought he'd have one.

"She was Sarada's age."

Sakura said, and the words hung in the air. The thought both disturbing and painful.

 _Losing a daughter..._

Instinctively, his hand moved to hold hers.

"I-I've grown very...protective of them." She muttered, her eyes drifting in thoughts. "They've been on their own for so long...without a father. A husband..."

He didn't know what to say to that. So he kept his mouth shut. There was a pause, and he waited for her to go on. But then her eyes widened, her hand shot up to her gaping mouth. "S-Sasuke, I-I didn't mean—Oh, God. I-It's not—"

"It's okay, Sakura."

"N-No..." She mumbled, her hand cupping the side of his face. "I'm so sorry. I-I didn't mean it like that…"

Sasuke held her gaze, feeling the hurt he knew he deserved. Besides, how different was he from that man, who abandoned his family?

"You did not abandon us, Sasuke."

He marveled at how much she knew him like the back of her hand. Her eyes showed a different emotion now, something of love and concern only for him. He took her hand from his face, and held it. He didn't like where the conversation was heading—he didn't want this to be about him—but he kept quiet.

Sakura could only mentally slap herself from being so stupid. But with that mistake, a thought crossed her mind. Why had she gotten attached to them in the first place? Wasn't it because she could relate to them? Because she saw her own daughter in that sick child's eyes—longing for a father she never met? Because she saw herself from in the mother—strong and resilient yet quietly enduring the responsibilities that were supposed to be shared with a husband... To feel the pain and loneliness alone, instead of being held and protected by someone she loves...

She was projecting, she realized...and she felt guilty.

She was embarrassed to meet his eyes, but when she tried, his gaze eyes were devoid of any emotion.

"I-I'm sorry, Sasuke." She croaked.

"For what?"

She sniffed. "For this."

"Hn."

"And for breakfast."

"Aa. Sarada's just like you. She understands."

Sakura took a deep breath, and exhaled. Lacing their fingers together, she held Sasuke's gaze. She'd long since learned to read him. She had been so accustomed to his silence that she'd mastered when he had something to say, what it was that he wanted but couldn't or wouldn't say. It had been hard, but over the years, it taught her to pay attention. She'd always been talkative, but with Sasuke, she learned to focus on the tiny things.

And now she knew what he was thinking.

"Sasuke…" she started, but Sasuke interrupted her with a gentle tap on her forehead.

She flushed, caught off guard.

"You don't have to apologize for feeling the way you do." He said, his voice deep yet void with irritation.

"B-But—"

"That man was wrong to leave his family."

Sakura felt her throat constrict. "That man's nowhere like you."

Sasuke's lip curled in a quiet scoff. He was far worse than any man. But there was no use in bringing it up. Not a word about this escaped his lips. Because Sakura knew him, and she knew how his mind works. He need not say more to hurt her, because he knew that she would only try to make him feel better. Because that's the kind of woman he married. The kind who loves someone like him unconditionally.

Her guilt bubbled in her chest, and a tear stubbornly streaked on her cheek. Yes, she thought. She felt exactly like that: she had been projecting. She was alone, and tired. She had to raise Sarada alone. She had to be happy and positive for her daughter, in full hopes that someday soon Sasuke would come knocking on their front door. In full confidence that, in all those years, he would find them enough reason to come back. She had been so…lonely for a very long time. That's the truth.

But not a word about this escaped her lips, because she knew, that Sasuke knows this. And not once, had she wanted him to feel any worse than he already does. She wasn't going to rub salt in the wounds he'd been trying to heal all this time.

"I'm sorry."

Sakura wiped away her tears. "For what?"

"For your loss."

Sakura sniffed, blinking away the wetness in her eyes. "I'll be okay."

"And for not being here when you needed me."

A smile tugged on the corner of her lips. The hurt in her chest was slowly being replaced with the love for the man in front of her. The sensation was overwhelming, almost suffocating. Sasuke's never been a man of words, and hearing this from him now meant a lot to her. She married a broken man—one who needed to find and heal himself before he could fully give out to her—and she'd long accepted that. But she'd married the love of her life; and this man gave her a daughter. She could only begin to wonder but never fully understand how her heart could love so much…

When she leaned in and kissed him, he felt his chest was about to explode. It was a short, sweet, yet lingering; and when she pulled away and smiled at him, he was once again reminded what those butterflies in the stomach actually meant.

Her face was flushed, and he indulged in the smirk pulling up from the corner of his lips.

"Sakura."

"Hmm?"

"I don't think Sarada should've seen that."

"Wh-what?"

On cue, the raven-haired genin stumbled into the room. The Uchiha ladies babbled and stammered at the same time—mother and daughter trying to explain—and his heart warmed at the fact that whether or not he deserved them, they were his.

* * *

Fin


End file.
